


Rebound Swing

by way1203



Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Consensual Sex, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Inner Dialogue, Internal Conflict, Introspection, Just Sex, Light Angst, Melancholy, No Strings Attached, One Night Stands, Past Infidelity, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s), Pity Sex, Porn with Feelings, Propositions, Realization, Rebound Sex, Sex for Favors, Syndicate Era (Cowboy Bebop), Unnamed Conquest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25025635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/way1203/pseuds/way1203
Summary: He just couldn't admit it, because admitting it would only reinforce the fact that it would take something more than this, something like another lifetime perhaps, to forget that blonde hair and every aspect of her that came with it.In which Spike struggles to reconcile his feelings and thinks sleeping with someone will help him forget Julia, but rebounds bring up more weight than expected.
Relationships: Julia/Spike Spiegel, Julia/Spike Spiegel/Vicious, Julia/Vicious (Cowboy Bebop), Past Julia/Spike Spiegel, Spike Spiegel & Original Female Character, Spike Spiegel & Vicious, Vicious (Cowboy Bebop) & Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Rebound Swing

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore Spike and how he'd be post-Julia. The location and time in which this takes place is purposefully ambiguous. Though, it does take place after Vicious discovers Spike has been sleeping with Julia. Spike's conquest in this is never named.

She was a rebound. A blip. She meant nothing. At least that's what Spike told himself when he let her lead him to the bedroom. He reminded himself when he found himself wanting this, and again when he stole kisses between breaths as their clothes tangled in piles on the floor. This is a blip, he thought when he ripped open the condom and rolled it on, his heart hammering to a rhythm he hoped wasn't regret.

This shit he was doing now and the fact that he'd known her, that he called her like the awful, desperate fuck he was in that moment, that he met her to catch up, that they'd left the bar together to do what they were doing now, it all meant nothing. Nothing. She was a rebound, after all. A blip, right? _Right?_

Spike repeated his thoughts in time with his actions, his hips snapping into her center driven forward by her gasps and moans. He was doing this for a reason. What this was, he couldn't say. If he could manage to name it, he wasn't entirely sure what it would mean.

No. He knew.

He _knew._

He just couldn't admit it, because admitting it would only reinforce the fact that it would take something more than this, something like another lifetime perhaps, to forget that blonde hair and every aspect of her that came with it.

Spike shifted his gaze to the present, to this woman. She was a rebound. A blip. Maybe if he just let his guard down, if he just gave in to what he was doing he could enjoy this for what it was. Enjoy her for what she was and what she was doing for him. What she, if he allowed himself to truly revel in it, was helping him forget.

 _Who_ she was helping him forget.

That is, if he gave into it—something which he was admittedly having a hard time doing despite noting just how hard he was for her and feeling how wet she was for him because— _shit!_ —she just ran her fingers through his hair and made a sound that reminded him a little too much of the ones _she_ —

He slammed his hips forward to push the memory away, but all it did was earn him a sharp _Spike!_ surrounded by a stunted moan of pleasure-driven pain.

_Shit!_

A wordless, haphazard apology in the form of a kiss was all he offered. _Shit!_ He fucked this up and he knew she knew that. He also knew she didn't want to hear his regrets, not only because she told him when he apologized for being so pathetic earlier that night, but because that's what a rebound was, right? No apologies, just two people fucking to forget?

Except he couldn't bring himself to think of it that way. He'd known her somewhat well and for too long. He already felt wretched enough about this. Maybe this is why they said you shouldn't do this kind of thing with past friends.

Their tongues slid in a dance that proved once again that she was the one more in control while he just went through the motions. Spike could taste the slightest bit of frustration in their actions. He needed to do better at pleasing her. He worked to kiss her back, to do his part. It took a few more kisses but eventually his manufactured ministrations worked. Still filling her, Spike pushed and pulled his way back to their previous momentum. She brought him closer as if it were possible for him to go any deeper. A shift of her legs proved him wrong. It was all about angles, after all. He managed to make his name ring out from her again and shift them back on track toward something they both needed—one much more than the other. Which of them it was, he knew.

Doing this when he was actively trying to forget was so much harder than he anticipated. For someone who was often laid-back and put into practice mimicking a water's flow, he certainly forced his focus more than a few times. And all because he was trying to forget that—

Spike took a calming breath. She was a blip, he remembered. But he was too much of a gentleman to be completely selfish in this. If he couldn't get himself focused enough, he'd work for her and make this worth her agreement. He slipped his hand between them, fingers moving to graze, press, and rub her clit in all the right ways as he continued driving into her. The extra stimulation coaxed her back to him and he back to her. He began to give in a bit more. He smirked against her collarbone. Which of his actions would make her come undone first? All he had to do was keep up his part.

And, sure, he'd do it, because he _really_ wanted to see how it'd play out. He needed to know how it'd feel to actually _do_ this rebound thing and not just move his way through it on autopilot. Hell, since he was already here with her tightening around him and sending both pleasure and the pulsating desire for release to the forefront of his mind, shouldn't he let himself enjoy this?

He thought so. If only because she was a rebound, and, if he was going to do this rebound thing correctly, he should enjoy it a little. She gripped the sheets and recalibrated his focus through a moan of his name. Okay, maybe he could enjoy this rebound thing _a lot_.

It was hard, at first, for him to admit she felt amazing. While his mind was trying to forget and center, his body betrayed him. It didn't care that she wasn't the one he'd grown accustomed to feeling. Hell, it hadn't even cared in the past if his hand was the one delivering the pleasure, just that he achieved it whenever he found himself missing blonde hair and cherry-red lipstick.

Or when he needed to feel _something_ when everything was numb.

Spike found himself moaning. She felt incredible. _Absolutely incredible_. That, or he was really, _really_ in need of a lay. Either way, she felt great and he let her know. His whispers that she was so good, _so, so good_ , mixed with the squeaks of the bed frame. His name on her lips in the various pitches of her whimpers and sounds made a beautiful accompaniment to the jazz of their bodies.

But she meant nothing.

She was a rebound, he remembered. And he had to remember. It was the only way he was going to do this without thinking about _her_. So this woman, the one whose legs were wrapped so comfortably around him, the one he was pumping into at a tempo he wasn't so sure he could maintain for much longer, she was just his attempt at forgetting. Spike had to remember that. She wasn't...

No. She was just a blip on the map that was his current situation with the Syndicate and Vicious and—

_Shit!_

He was too close. He needed to forget and he was almost there. _She_ was almost there. Spike rolled onto his back and pulled her on top where she gladly took the reins and rode him without apology. _Shit_ , she was a pro. He wouldn't last like this. Not when she was _this_ good, almost as good as—

No.

He shifted his attention to her modest breasts before him and her familiar hips grinding and bouncing against his own. He planted open-mouth kisses on the skin in the center of her chest while grasping her bottom. She responded with a sound so needy, so _desperate_ , he learned just how close to the brink he'd managed to bring her.

She was a blip. He just needed to remember, to refocus.

 _A rebound_ , thought Spike. He bit his lip and concentrated on staving off his release in favor of her letting go first.

She meant nothing. He brought her chest against his and pounded his pelvis up into hers. She clenched around him, whimpering. He pushed her over the edge with another shove, his mouth marking her neck as she came.

 _A blip_ , he remembered—but only once he'd buried himself deep, the pleasure of it all catching up to him and leaving him panting and groaning beneath her.

She was a rebound.

Spike looked up at her eyes. He could almost see the stars in her vision. She wasn't one to fake this, he knew that. He'd seen her take down groups of men, slaughtering souls through physical and verbal attacks. She wouldn't hesitate to call him an embarrassment in the sack. What he managed to make her do was genuine, and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to kiss her. To _thank_ her. To apologize for asking for this because he couldn't get _someone_ out of his—

She kissed him.

Trembling through aftershocks, her body still pulsing around him, she held his face and closed the gap between their mouths. She was a mind reader. An understated yet exquisite mind reader. He didn't deserve what she tried to do for him. She didn't deserve having to do _this_ for him.

Then, as hastily as it began, it ended.

She dismounted him. Spike tied up the condom and tossed it into the bin. He covered his hips with the rumpled sheets. Part of him wanted her to stick around so he could hold her and enjoy the post-orgasm stillness between them. It was something he did once or twice with his ex-lover when they had time to spare after their rushed clandestine tumbles behind Vicious's back. Spike wasn't usually the type to cuddle, but the memories and nostalgia made him want for everything he couldn't have.

Besides that's not what this was. It wasn't what he called her for, and it wasn't what she agreed to do to help him. He sat up with a slouched back and watched her dress. Pants, bra, turtleneck, boots. The routine of it after something so spontaneous almost made him laugh. She strapped on her weapons harness second to last, the two Jerichos tucked inside hidden from view once she threw on her coat.

 _Could've been a Syndicate siren_ , thought Spike.

He recalled a time when he considered bringing her in, back when the mere idea of White Tiger claiming her made something in him itch. The thought of guiding her through assassinations and trades as a Red Dragon stoked those dangerous qualities of his that helped him rise so high in the ranks. Vicious thought his vision wasteful, which only made Spike want her in that much more. He countered that it would be far better to have someone of her caliber in than out, or, at the very least, closely affiliated. But Vicious won. He didn't see reason when there were other more malleable assassins waiting in the wings. Spike reluctantly relented, his will to fight over it drained out like a poison as more pressing matters in the Syndicate captured his attention.

But that was then. She'd fared well despite never knowing the proposition Spike had in mind. Perhaps it was better this way. Regret really _was_ just another star in the galaxy.

Now this venomous woman was his rebound. A blip on his map of conquests. She made him feel so good, so _relieved_. So why did he feel an underlying lack of satisfaction? He sighed.

He knew why.

He _knew_.

But he didn't want to admit it.

She thanked him for the quickie, gave him a kiss that brought him back to attention, and called him a damn good lay. Then she left him in bed smoking half of the cigarette she started. Spike was too focused on getting the nicotine into his system to offer her more than a wave.

"We could do this again sometime, Spiegel. Y'know, if you ever find your way back here needing a hand."

He gave her a lazy smile and watched her go. He'd never see her again. At least not like this. Despite what she said, he knew her well enough to know that once she let herself fuck him, she'd never repeat something so senseless. She was too perceptive.

It was a mistake, blurring lines like this—both for her and for him. Spike knew she could probably sense that he wasn't exactly over what'd happened between him and Julia (or Vicious, and everything else for that matter). Who was he kidding? She didn't _need_ to sense it. She knew she was dealing with his Julia-hungover heart when she offered him a pity fuck. Hell, he was still surprised he didn't slip and call her _Julia_ or cry it when he came. He cursed himself. It wasn't fair that he did this to her. But, then again, she was his rebound.

He wasn't exactly supposed to be fair, was he?

With the cigarette nearly gone and the tensions of his situation still running through his system despite a satisfying orgasm and nicotine, Spike gave another sigh. He watched the smoke dissipate and slid his hand under the sheets. He wasn't finished thanks to that last kiss. He cursed her. She knew what she'd done. Too damn perceptive. He smiled.

She was a classic who left a signature of some sort wherever she went. Granted, tonight's was a little different, but he got the message nonetheless. Leaning his head back against the wall, he set to work. He'd make this fast. His tensions began to ease with each pump of his fist. Maybe she was right—maybe he _did_ need to fuck himself instead. Maybe having a rebound wasn't such a bad thing if it enlightened him this way. A calm finally flowed through. With a gasp, Spike let himself go.

"... _Julia!_ "


End file.
